


wedding night

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Isobel POV, Missing Scene, This isn't sad, but i still feel sorry for them both, they try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: Lady Isobel sleeps with her husband Lord John Grey for the first time.
Relationships: Isobel Dunsany/Lord John Grey
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88
Collections: Outlander Bingo Challenge





	wedding night

**Author's Note:**

> beta by mistresspandora and written for the Isobel square for my the 2020 Outlander Bingo

Isobel nervously bit at the edge of her thumb. It was a bad habit from childhood that she’d never been able to break no matter how often her mother or Geneva had scolded her for it. “Will it hurt, John?” 

“Some. At first. Like a pinch, I’ve been told, but I promise to be gentle and it gets better after that.” Candlelight flickered on Lord John’s handsome features. Isobel could barely believe this man was her husband. He was the sort of attractive she’d always expected her sister Geneva to be matched with, but then... oh, that had been disastrous. She did not want to think of that. 

“Is everything alright, Isobel?” he asked as gentle as a dove. She did love how gentle John was with her, though she knew he could be fierce. He was a soldier and the victor in several duels. 

“Yes, John. Just nervous.”

Lord John shucked his coat from his shoulders and laid it over the chair by the window, then he made swift work of his waist coat, leaving him in his linen shirt. Isobel lacked knowledge regarding what went on between man and wife besides what she’d seen of the horses. She struggled to imagine Lord John turning her about like a mare and rutting into her, fast and merciless. Isobel shuddered. At least, she hoped it would not be like that. The most her mother had said was to lie there, accept it, and it would be over quickly. 

Isobel swallowed, suddenly flushed. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Lie down, Isobel.” 

Mother had gotten that part right it seemed.

She nodded, trembling, and laid back on the bed, fair hair spilled over the pillows. With only the candlelight, she couldn’t see much of her husband. Only occasional flickers illuminated his nakedness. His member stood out from between his tan legs, long and hard as he stroked it, not looking at her. Then, suddenly his tight, lithe body fitted around her. Over her. Pinning her to the mattress. 

She thought maybe she should like this less than she did, but Isobel had harbored a fancy for this man for quite some time, though it had quieted enough that when he’d asked for her hand. She’d managed to respond properly and politely, rather than giddy and childish. But  _ my _ , he was handsome and he smelled like lemon-verbena and something deep and distinctly masculine she had no name for. 

Suddenly, the hand she’d held many times in friendship moved under her wedding dress and her petticoats up between her legs. Fingers circled until she was wet and trembling against him. This was Lord John doing this. Her husband. Her husband Lord John Grey. She was a wife now and this was one of her duties. Though his touch felt good enough that she wondered why women thought of this as a duty and not a comfortable pastime. However, Isobel knew there was far more to it than these gentle touches. She thought of the horses again. 

Lord John kissed her then for the first time since the wedding ceremony. His lips tasted like sweet wine and winter herbs. With his mouth still on hers, he positioned himself between her spread legs and pushed her skirts up even more. A thick, smooth  _ something  _ pressed against her, demanding entrance. 

She’d known this man all her life. Since she was a small child, tugging at his breeches or giggling about how handsome he was with Geneva when he’d come to visit. How strange to share this unusual intimacy now, to feel the smooth heat of his member slipping inside her. A quick snap of his hips sent a shock through her. She gripped at his bare back.

“ _ John.” _

“Are you hurt, my dear?” he said, voice rather unaffected under the circumstances.

“A little, b-but I’ll be alright.” She shivered. “It is odd to have someone so close.” Isobel giggled, biting the inside of her cheek to stop it.  _ How embarrassing.  _ “You’re inside me, John.”

She felt him deeper now. Full and tight. This would be frightening, she thought, if it were anyone  _ but _ John. 

“Yes, I am,” he said simply but not unkindly. 

After a few moments of John inside her, still as stone, she said, “Is… this is all we do?”

He chuckled, then kissed her cheek. “No. I move, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“I think I am?” Her voice was tense. “But I’m not sure.”

John gave her a forehead a gentle kiss and started a rhythmic thrusting that knocked light breaths from her lips. The drag inside her was so unusual and yet her body did respond to it, leaking and softening. 

His hips moved faster and he settled up onto his arms dragging his body and the fabric of her skirts over her in a way that sent tingles across her skin. Isobel hadn’t ever felt anything like that before in her life.

“Oh, oh, John,” she said, almost scared by the new sensation. “What is that?”

He stilled. “Am I hurting you?”

Isobel shook her head. “Don’t, don’t stop. It feels… pleasant?”

“It’s supposed to, dear.” John looked down at her with that handsome face. “I’ll see if I can make it even better, yes?”

And John did make it better with the slow, dragging movements of his hips, his big hand slipping down to stroke and touch her wetness. Then, just the thought of him, her kind, honorable husband, who’d been glad to take in her nephew and raise him as his own. Her husband with his perfect face and kind hands. He was her  _ husband.  _ And she, his wife. 

Isobel found herself arching up into him, guided by an ancient instinct to seek out more of that feeling rising inside her like a hot spring. Then, suddenly, Isobel was gasping “John,  _ John _ ”. A pleasure without name rolled through every inch of her in hot, delicious throbs. 

Lord John buried his face into her neck, mumbling something. She could not tell precisely what he was saying, though she could tell that it wasn’t her own name as she had called his. 

He laid there on top of her panting, then slid out leaving her empty aside from the pooling stickiness she knew to be his seed. He rolled over beside her on the bed. 

“I didn’t know women could do that,” Isobel whispered. 

John smiled, looking over at her, flush-faced. “Indeed. You also can... well, you don’t  _ need _ me or any man to feel that way.”

Isobel sat up, kicking down the skirt of wedding dress. “Truly? Not that I… I only mean… I did not know that.”

“You can touch yourself the way I touched you, even put your fingers inside yourself.”

Isobel blinked, dumbstruck. “You wouldn’t mind?” 

“That you would be happy and feel pleasure whenever you choose? No, my dear, I don’t mind.”

Isobel let out a breath and leaned back against the bed clothes, glad she could now call herself a wife. Lord John’s wife. 

  
  



End file.
